


Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted.

by Sad_Depressed_Girly



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sad_Depressed_Girly/pseuds/Sad_Depressed_Girly
Summary: Out of all the ways Desmond had planned for this to go, this is not one of them. On the contrary, this is so far from anything his own mind could have conceived, there’s a part of him that’s honestly wondering if it’s all just some fantasy. Just him experiencing a particularly strong bout of the bleeding effect.
Relationships: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad/Desmond Miles
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80





	Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted.

Out of all the ways Desmond had planned for this to go, _this_ is not one of them. On the contrary, this is so far from anything his own mind could have conceived, there’s a part of him that’s honestly wondering if it’s all just some fantasy. Just him experiencing a particularly strong bout of the bleeding effect.

But he knows better. He was there every step of this journey. From finding the means to travel back in time, - _time travel_ for fuck’s sake, the Isu really did try everything, - To acquiring that same means, to using it, to confronting his first ancestor, - the first one he’s aware of, anyway, - to getting that ancestor to trust him, to fostering a relationship with said ancestor to...well, to here. To this moment.

And passionately kissing his centuries-old ancestor isn’t a fantasy Desmond’s aware of ever having. Hell, making out with someone who looks so similar to him isn’t a fetish Desmond’s aware of ever having.

He was suppose to be trying to change the future. Not trying to get laid.

“You don’t find any of this strange?” He asks, pulling away, a little breathless from their kissing. “Us looking so similar?...Everything that I am and that you know about me? You’re really not against any of this?”

“Nothing is true and everything is permitted.” Is all Altair says back before going in for another heated kiss, and Desmond can’t _believe_ he’s using The Creed to justify _this_. Then Altair is pushing his tongue straight past Desmond’s lips and into his gasping mouth and Desmond can’t think at all for a minute. God but Altair knows what he’s doing, tongue exploring every inch of Desmond’s mouth, lovingly rubbing up against Desmond’s own and _oh._ Desmond’s hard. Really, really hard and Altair _must_ feel it, huddled up as close as he is, and _what is even happening._

“What does that _even_ mean?” He says, once he’s got his wits about him enough to focus on Altair’s words and not his, - exceptionally skilled, - mouth.

“It means I’m going to take you,” Is what Altair says back and the man isn’t one for mincing words is he?

Desmond’s moaning at the thought before he’s even aware of it, as if his brain can’t catch up to his body. To what his body wants.

“It means you want me to take you,” Altair thrusts his hips into Desmond, and Desmond is moaning again at the feel of his cock, hard and pressing against Desmond’s own, and _big._ Jesus Christ the man must be hung like a horse!

“Here?!” Is what he says, instead of something sensible and responsible like ‘this is probably a terrible idea and we should probably stop.’ Because who’s he kidding really, he _does_ want this. He wants it so bad he can’t think straight. He’s going to bend over and spread his ass for that cock and he’s going to love every damn second of it.

“Do you wish to stop and go somewhere else?” Altair asks, patiently, - as if he’s trying to explain something to a stubborn pupil, - and stopping is definitely not an idea Desmond is particular keen on. He thrusts into Altair instead of answering though. Moaning at the feel of it. Fuck. It’s been a long time since he’s had a good dick, and he can already tell, this is going to be a _very_ good dick. So what if they’re in a small study, and there’s no bed in sight? There’s privacy and a sturdy desk, that will be enough.

Maybe he can even try to push for a bed next time. If there’s even going to _be_ a next time. He can’t believe he’s already thinking about it. Seriously, what has become of him?

 _He really hopes there’s going to be a next time_.

He’s pawing at Altair, a little desperately now. - Not even trying to hide his want, - Moving Altair’s assassin’s robes out of the way to try and get at him. To try and get his hands on that cock and see if it really is as big as he’s imagining. Altair just watches him, watches Desmond’s hands work through the ties of his pants, not even trying to help from where he’s leaning forward a little. Bracketing Desmond’s body between his arms while they trap Desmond against the wall, and it really shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but just the _confidence_ that’s exuding from the man. Like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on Desmond. He probably does, the cocky asshole.

Then finally, _Finally_ he’s got his hands around the warm skin of Altair’s girth, is freeing it from his pants and it’s just as big as Desmond thought it would be. His mouth is watering at the sight, at the little groans Altair makes while Desmond strokes him, gentle and loose. He’s teasing, drawing this out. Both because he doesn’t want it to end, and also because he’s genuinely enraptured. He’s going to have that dick inside him tonight and he can’t breath at the thought. Altair is just watching his hands, patiently. Not rushing him. Not rushing this. His face makes little twitches of pleasure and his hips are making small thrusts into Desmond’s hands, like Altair can’t help himself. It’s so fucking sexy, and Desmond is insanely turned on. He wants that cock in his mouth, he decides, and then starts sliding his body down the wall to do just that. Altair looks a little surprised and confused and Desmond wonders if he’s never had a blowjob before. The thought of that makes him inexplicable harder, and Desmond has his mouth on Altair’s cock before he’s even aware of it.

The _sound_ Altair makes is absolutely sinful. Desmond feels a hand on his head and he latches his own hands onto the assassin’s hips, holding him in place as Desmond takes that dick into his mouth and just _tastes_ him.

“ _Desmond...”_ Altair is making little aborted pushes into Desmond’s mouth and Desmond slowly takes more and more of him in, licking and sucking at him like his cock is the juiciest Popsicle on the hottest summer day. He can’t do much right now, - Altair really is quite large, and Desmond needs both of his hands to hold the stronger man’s hips in place, - but he starts a steady rhythm, taking what he can of Altair’s dick into his mouth and sucking. The sounds are absolutely obscene, both from Desmond’s blowjob and from Altair, - he’s full on moaning now, completely lost in the pleasure, the feel of Desmond’s mouth, - and Desmond can feel Altair’s hand trembling from where it’s latched onto his head. Trying not to shove Desmond’s face into his cock. One day, Desmond decides, He’ll let him, Just allow himself to be used for Altair’s pleasure as he deep-throats the man. Swallowing his cock with every thrust.

Just the thought of it is too much for Desmond, and he has to let go of Altair’s dick. Let’s it drop wetly, from his mouth as he suddenly gets up and back into Altair’s space again. It’s Desmond who starts their make-out session this time. Grabbing the back of Altair’s head and smashing their mouths together in a passionate kiss. If Altair minds kissing a man who’s just had his mouth on his cock, he doesn’t show it. Kissing Desmond back with passion, but Desmond’s own needs have been shoved to the wayside up until this point and his patience is at it’s end. He pulls away from Altair to roughly shove his own pants and underclothes down, - Almost ripping them in his haste, - but it’s not his own cock he goes for. Instead, He brings his one hand back to Altair’s dick, - completely slick now from spit and precum, - While the other, Desmond brings to his own ass, to his entrance. Gently rubbing it while he leans back to stare straight into Altair’s eyes.

“You like to watch, huh?” He whispers, watching the spike of heat startle from Altair’s face. Then Desmond feels himself being flipped, the side of his face and chest pressed against the wall by the front of Altair’s body. Desmond had to let go of the other man’s cock in the process but somehow he doesn’t think Altair minds at the moment.

“Well, go on then.” A whisper, just a breath against his eat. “Give me a show,” And then Altair’s body leaves him. Keeping Desmond shoved against the wall with just one hand between his shoulder blades, and Desmond can’t see him, but he knows all of Altair’s focus is now on the fingers Desmond has at his ass.

 _Fuck_. How is one man so hot?

Desmond moans as he slowly pushes one finger into himself. It’s too dry and rough and the friction _almost_ burns, and it’s _fucking amazing_. Desmond can feel Altair’s eyes on him, transfixed on every twitch his finger makes inside himself, every minuscule movement, and Desmond is so fucking hard he’s half temped to just let Altair shove his cock into him right then and there, - let the man split him in two with it, - but instead he gently pumps his finger in and out of himself, caressing his insides with every push and pull. He can feel the effect it has on Altair in the way his hand twitches from it’s place on Desmond’s back, the gentle groans the man is still making.

Then Desmond hears a slicking sound and he realizes Altair is touching himself, jerking off to the sight of Desmond fucking his own finger, and Desmond’s groaning at the mental images, He wants to see. He wants bring a second finger into himself, but it’s too dry. One is fine, but two would actually be painful.

“Altair, Altair I can’t,” He says pulling his finger out of himself, and he feels the other man push up into him again, Altair’s chest to his back and the assassin’s hot, wet cock against his ass and hand. He feels Altair’s hand slide up to his ass to rest against his own, fingers brushing between the cheeks to rub at his entrance.

“It’s alright, Desmond, I got you,” And then the other man is moving away, and there’s new sounds. A rustle of fabric and the opening of a corked bottle.

“Have you been carrying oil with you this whole day?” Desmond asks, incredulous.

“Longer.” Is Altair’s reply. His confession. “I’ve been thinking about you for a while, thinking about taking you. Waiting for the right moment.”And then there’s two oiled fingers pushing into him and Desmond is definitely not capable of thinking beyond that. He’s pushing his ass back into Altair’s fingers, meeting him with every thrust and encouraging him to quicken the pace. Desmond’s done with the teasing now. Altair starts to go faster but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough to meet Desmond’s needs right now.

“Altair, _harder_ ,” he says honestly. Figuring straight up, verbal communication is the best bet here.

Sure enough on the next thrust, Desmond feels three fingers shoved into him and he absolutely keens as Altair starts a brutal, almost punishing rhythm. Then Altair changes the angle and rams right into Desmond’s prostate and he’s arching, chest shoved into the wall like he’s trying to break through it and head thrown back in a silent scream. He can’t take it any longer, he’s ready.

“Altair-” He starts, but he doesn’t have time to finish. It seems Altair is just as keyed up as Desmond, maybe even more so, because the next second, the fingers are gone and that large, oiled cock is replacing them.

‘We didn’t even make it to the desk,’ is the only thought that passes through Desmond’s mind and then Altair is breaching him.

And it’s _tight._ So goddamn tight. He wasn’t stretched enough and Altair is _big_ , but he’s being gentle and going slow and Desmond is ready. Grabbing his own ass in both his hands and physically stretching it, pulling his cheeks apart to give Altair better access.

And the wrecked sound that comes out of the other man is all the warning Desmond gets before that cock is shoved into him, filling him to the brink, and he’s so beyond turned on it doesn’t even register as painful. Just a glorious stretch and Desmond is thrashing, shoving back into Altair’s cock before the man even starts to pull out.

They set a hard rhythm right off the bat. Altair has his hands on Desmond’s hips in a bruising hold as he physically pulls Desmond back onto his cock. Desmond’s thighs are trembling and he feels himself slowly sliding down the wall, he can’t find any purchase. Letting go of his own ass to scrabble at the stone.

He wants to say something, to try to let Altair know of his struggles, but he feels like the air is being fucked out of his lungs, body spasming wildly as Altair manhandles him. Ruthlessly shoving in and out of him and nailing that spot each and every time.

But Altair is a perceptive man, and he notices Desmond, back arched almost painfully as his chest continues to slide lower and lower down the wall. Desmond feels himself being moved and then he’s shoved up against the book shelves, ‘still not the desk,’ he thinks, hysterically before grabbing onto the shelves and hanging on for his life as Altair picks up the pace yet again and goes even harder. Ramming into Desmond so hard now that his body physically shakes with it. - His entire being jolted back and forth with every push and pull of Altair’s hips, - and the shelves bang into the wall behind them with enough force that books start falling to the ground.

“Desmond, are you ready for me?” Altair asks, voice straining with effort, and Desmond grabs his dick, without hesitation, jerking it once, twice, before he’s coming, the robes he still wears catching his come and preventing it from hitting the books. (and thank God the both of them were so frenzied in their lust that they didn’t even bother to fully undress) He feels the wetness of Altair’s own seed as the man comes inside him with a loud groan, and he wishes he could see Altair's face. Wants to see him lose all control and just be taken by the throws of his own pleasure.

‘There’s definitely going to be a next time’ Desmond thinks, as the two of them collapse backward to the ground, and he feels Altair pull out. He’s also definitely going to be limping for the next few days,

“Nothing is true and everything is permitted,” Is what he says to Altair though, and when the man looks at him, Desmond knows he understands.

Maybe next time, Desmond will ride that cock until Altair goes mad, and watch every muscle on the other man’s face as he goes mindless from the pleasure of it.

Maybe Altair will let Desmond tie him up...

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say for myself, Frankly.


End file.
